Chains Rattle
by Andrew614
Summary: Follow this story of a young gangster named Andrew as he tries to make it in 1923 New York.
1. Chapter 1

**1**

****Its been a long while since I could truly say I'm happy, let alone smile. 1932 is the year. I am in the middle of downtown New York. We call it the rainbow city, people of every color, race, and religion here. I am a black coat, gun toter, gangster, and I go by many other names but you can just call me Andrew. Andrew Joel Baldwin, 23 years old and have been part of Genovese Gang for as long as I can remember, where they have been good to me. They will not always be so kind to immigrants but I was one lucky English. I was a 12 year old orphan when they found me.

Jack and Nichole Mitchel, were the kind souls who took me in. Nichole being native this land, had a bit of a soft spot for british accents. I remember how the two would giggle about how that's what made her fall for Jack. Nichole took me in off the street, gave me a shelter, warm food, a place to sleep, and so much more but I would never ask for a thing. She would show me the most compassion out of any other human. She had no relation with the gang other than here relation with Jack. He on the other hand was stern. Just looking at the towering man, he was only 5'7" but showed a lot more, you could see that there where some images a normal man could not take burnt into his skull.

His biggest worry was keeping his work and family separate. Sadly that could not happen. It was a normal day in Westerns Food Mart, as normal as workers trying to shovefree samples down your throat could be when it happened...

Mitchel!" , A man screamed from a few lanes down, he's face filled with shock and his eyes as wide as saucers, alerting us of the men shooting at us. Four shots went off, screams sounded from every part of the store, and objects flew as people tried to leave quicker than a bat out of hell. One missed, two went into the woman I called my mother, and one hit my foot directly behind my big toe, on the left side. I still have that scar. It almost stopped there, but it was not over as a new man holding his bowler cap ran, jumped behind the Deli and began to fire at the slim man that shot first, I believe they called him Gambino.

By the end of it all there where six deaths, Including Nichole. Jack did not know how to cope so he left me to "Uncle Lenny" while he went to find out what he would do. And that's how I got involved in it all. From then on I have been working up rank through the family with killings, theft, and drugs. Not to mention our biggest income, the one that goes against the newest law here, moonshine. Tough shit, grain alcohol.

That is where I am today. I have a small house, no relatives besides Lenny, and am busy as hell's fire with the work of the family. In other words, I could not be happier.

After all, who needs all of that other bullshit to screw up their lives?


	2. Chapter 2

**2**

Its late fall now, nearly all of the leaves have fallen off of the scattered trees throughout New York , Leaving nothing to protect the people on the streets from the November chill, or for the faces inside of ars to hide behind as the wizz through. It's perfect for my first survey task. We have an ambush ready at the mini market and I have been asked to watch it from the library across the street to alert them when the Colombos show. It has been far too long since they have borrowed supplies from us. Something's up.

Every thing was going according to plan, a perfectly silent, easy to concentrate. Well, it was perfect until after about 40minutes a mousy woman came up complaining.

"Excuse me, but are you going to be sitting here stalking every car that drives by, or will you be reading anything. If not, then You're going to have to leave, Sir. We don't tolerate procrastinators."

I figured she had no idea who she was talking to so I ignored and kept watch...

"Well, would you at least pretend to read something, you ignorant fool!", she screamer as she threw a paperback at my face.

The bitch! Did she not know who the hell I was! I could have her killed with a flick of my wrist.

Fed up with being screamed at by a woman no less, I threw the book to the ground, fragile pages fluttering about, the old book unable to take the force stood and shouted in her heart-shaped face.

"Now you listen here, I don't want to read your damn book, I've got shit to do lady!"

By now I had her pressed up against a wall, her delicate curves melting into my bulky figure, her chest rising and falling at a quick rate, heart pumping with fear, her cherry red lips forming an 'O' shape in shock.

"And for another-" I stopped as the sound of a single gun shot hit my ear like the bullet itself. By the time I got to the door it was too late. The Colombos were driving away while one of my men lie on the ground, bleeding away his last breath.

I sat back on the indoor bench, too ashamed to leave. After a few moments of silence, she spoke, her voice as soft as rose petals.

"Are you OK sir?"

"No." I stated softly.

She didn't say anything at first, the battle between her fear of random gang members shooting off guns at her library and helping someone who looked to be in shock. Eventually, her obvious hospitality won.

"Is there anything I can get you, coffee, some lunch perhaps?"

When I glanced up at her, taking in her white blouse, ankle length blue floral skirt and stocking clad toes that peek out from underneath that ridiculous skirt as she crouched in front of me, I only asked one thing.

"Just your name."

.She looked at me as if she was searching for signs. Maybe she thought I was crazy.

Finally, she said "Jene'"

That's it. And that's all it took my me to become fascinated with her.

She picked up one of the scattered pages of the novel I threw, wrote down the number for the bed and breakfast she was staying at and told me if I ever need anything to just call her.

I held her gaze for a few seconds, and left, not a single word of goodbye uttered.

I confronted my group who seemed to forget all about me holding the radio to let them know when the Colombos where coming. They didn't blame a single one of their mafia brothers.

When they saw my distress, the said I did my job perfectly.

But if I didn't have the radio, what was my job fellows?


	3. Chapter 3

3

Now heading back home after my last job. Heading from gold st. I needed still to get back over East river. My ride was fairly peacfull ride, For the first time my old Cadillac didn't rumble or anything, even though it is filled with holes from our last firefight.

It was about four months ago on water st. next to an old diner. This was again with the same rivals that we where looking out for while I was in the library. This was a biger problem though. A large part of our family ran the place therefore we where to protect the buisness under any situation, and this situation was theves.

We waited outside where we seen three of their cars. It only took them nine minuits of being inside for them to start some sort of chaos. There where five of us in two cars trying our best to block off the road. Finaly we watched as two men ran out and jumped in their cars just befor plowing into the side of my partners car as the others swerved past as I pushed our car as hard as I could to keep up. It didn't take long for the two cars left to pull to a stop. I stoped to keep distance as two men seped out of the remaining cars using their doors as shields and began to fire upon us. In no time at all the other car of my group arived after "taking care" of one of their three, but just as they returned the driver was shot through the windshield leaving only the four of us.-

The rest seems a bit blury. It is strange, I can't keep that girl from intirupting my thoughts. I am pulling off Brooklyn bridge now on my way to my house on Fulton st. It has been a long day and I just want to rest. As I pull up to the apartment I notice the owner is not parked where he normaly is. I walked in to the lobby and asked "Joey! what is with the change in space."

"Some chink was in my space when i got here this morning, I noticed a sticker on the back. I guess he is from Market st." ,He souned pissed.

I yawned and replyed "Im sorry to here it, Call my room in the morning and let me know whats up. I need sleep." And with that I left.

After all of today I just needed to relax. I almost did not notice the red post on my door as I walked in. I didn't have the energy to deal with it so I threw the post, my new book with the phone number of Jene', and my keys down on the side table, tossed my dark black leather jacket to the lazy chair and enjoyed my dim lit room as I slowly fell asleep to the sight of a clock.

[8:34pm]


End file.
